


Making a Difference

by china_shop



Category: White Collar
Genre: Episode Related, Fic, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-21
Updated: 2011-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 16:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lightbulb has to want to change. Episode tag for 2.15.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making a Difference

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malnpudl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malnpudl/gifts).



> Thanks to dragonfly for beta.

Diana knocked on Peter's office door. "The financial records we requested from the power companies implicated in Stanzler's scam have started coming in. You want me to get Blake and Bornholdt working on them?"

"Yeah." Peter glanced up from something on his desk. "Thanks."

Diana took a step forward, curious, and blinked at the ID wallet lying open on Peter's blotter. "I did not just see that," she said with a grin. "Caffrey forged himself an FBI badge?"

"Not exactly." Peter flipped it around so she could read the name printed on the badge: Peter Burke.

Diana laughed out loud, and nearly asked, _Did he borrow your wedding ring too?_ But she bit her tongue just in time. Being in Peter's confidence meant knowing how far the teasing could safely go; cross the line, and Peter clammed up and buried his embarrassment under a stack of paperwork and red tape. Diana settled for, "Taking the undercover thing a bit far, isn't he?"

"Believe me, if I'd known about it, I would have confiscated it sooner." Peter leaned back in his chair. "Which is why he kept it to himself, of course. Sometimes I wonder—" He trailed off, shaking his head.

Diana shut the door and took the visitor's chair. "Whether he's taking any of this seriously?"

"That." Peter nodded. "And whether we really know him at all. His pursuit of Fowler was genuine, but now—the work we do, the cases, it's still a game to him."

"There are worse games he could be playing," Diana pointed out, but that didn't seem to ease Peter's mind, and he had a point. Still— "Maybe he's just the kind of person for whom life is a game, whatever they're doing. That doesn't mean they're not committed to anything."

"Do you think that's what it is?" Peter looked at her, seeking her counsel. It was a rare occurrence, and when it happened she always did her best to rise to the occasion.

"Maybe." She scratched her ear, and figured she might as well share her Theory of Caffrey. "Not really, not with Caffrey. He's too earnest to be like that. The way I see it, a con artist is a lot like a diplomat: they can be charming and likeable, and even helpful when it suits them, but they always have an agenda, and if you're not part of that, sooner or later, they'll break your heart."

Peter leaned his elbows on the desk and hunched forward, considering this. "And Neal's agenda?"

Diana shrugged. "In the short term, revenge for Kate. In the long run, fame, fortune, notoriety."

"Yeah," said Peter, almost a sigh. "You're right. I forget sometimes."

"We all forget sometimes," said Diana. "He's a likeable guy. I—" She hesitated, then figured what the hell. "I keep my guard up, probably more than I really need to."

"You've been burned before." Peter tilted his head. "Diplomat?"

Diana widened her mouth in a humorless smile. "The father of my first girlfriend. He was a diplomat, a lot like Caffrey in some ways: sophisticated, sure of himself, always smiling. I thought he liked me—maybe he did, I don't know—but I didn't fit into his grand plan for his daughter. So he got under her skin, subtle little hints and criticisms. I tried to counter it, to make her see what was going on, but it took him less than a month to break us up." Diana looked down at her hands, remembering the fury and impotence, the tearstained pillows. Thankful she didn't have to deal with self-important Machiavellis on a daily basis anymore. At least Caffrey wasn't usually interested in making her dance to his tune.

"I'm sorry." Peter's sympathy was plain, balm on an old wound.

"It was a long time ago. I have Christie now." Diana shrugged it off. "And maybe Caffrey's not like that."

"Yeah, maybe." Peter glanced down at the badge again, and his mouth twisted. Wistful. Self-deprecating. For an instant, Diana thought she caught a glimpse into his heart, how much he cared about Caffrey, how desperately he wanted to succeed in rehabilitating him, making him be one of the good guys for real. Then Peter blinked and a shutter came down. He flipped the wallet shut, dropped it in his bottom drawer and sat up with a sigh. "I'd better get on with the arrest reports before Hughes starts breathing down my neck. You need anything else?"

That was a dismissal, if ever there was one. Diana got up and went to the door, but before she opened it, she stopped. Sometimes hope was cruel, an opening for future heartache, but it sure made the present more bearable. "If it helps," she said, picking her words carefully, "sometimes I think he wants to change. To be better. You're making a difference, boss."

Peter's answering smile was wry and a little tired, but it was something. He nodded his thanks, and turned to sign in to his computer. Diana let her gaze rest on him a moment, concerned and warm with confidences shared, and then shook herself and went back to her desk. The small human dramas that took place around the edges of office life were real and they mattered, but the reason they were all here, pulling late nights, wading through dull files and sitting for days on end in the surveillance van—it was all to catch criminals and make the world a safer, fairer place. And Diana was firm in the belief—playing out in her relationship with Christie, which was slowly improving as they both adjusted back to the New York lifestyle—that if they did their jobs to the best of their abilities, the rest would eventually take care of itself, one way or another.

END


End file.
